Know Your Joe: Chuckles
by Red Witch
Summary: Never judge a Joe by his Hawaiian shirt.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any GI Joe characters has gone to the movies. This came into my insane little mind. Takes place in my other story Year Of The Cobra. Right after the chapter The Adventures of a Bird and a Ball. **

**Know Your Joe: Chuckles **

"Let me see if I get this straight," General Hawk glared at his subordinates in an office. "You lot found not only a crystal ball with a ghost in it that Cobra left behind, but a talking _turkey_?"

"With fangs sir," Duke coughed.

"It turned out to be a damn vampire," Beach Head grumbled. His foot was in a cast.

"It's true," Roadblock was bandaged up and he also had a foot in a cast. "The fangs should have been a clue."

"A vampire **turkey,**" General Hawk rubbed his eyes. "Cobra now has a ghost and a **vampire turkey**. Which hijacked an armored truck and caused rampant destruction among the French country side as well as injuring both of you."

"That is true," Roadblock groaned.

"And how exactly did a crystal ball and a talking turkey hijack an armored truck?" General Hawk asked, clearly confused.

"Because that stupid ghost hijacked my body first," Roadblock grumbled. "Those creeps really are the worst."

"Yeah I kind of figured it wasn't you attacking me when I saw your eyes glowing and realized you weren't rhyming," Beach Head groaned. "Too late unfortunately…"

"I see…" General Hawk sighed as he looked at the reports.

"General, I couldn't do anything at all!" Roadblock protested. "My spirit was trapped in that ball!"

"I believe you," General Hawk groaned. "God help me I believe you. Now I have a few more questions… Starting with what the hell is a vampire turkey? Those are a **thing?**"

"Apparently they are Sir," Airtight was looking at a computer pad. "They're called a Tlaiques. A type of vampire from Mexico."

"Which explains the Mexican accent," Shipwreck mused.

"And the reason you didn't stake it was…?" General Hawk began.

"Because we didn't know vampire turkeys were a **thing!**" Duke snapped. "Crystal Ball said it was Cobra Commander's genetically modified pet!"

"This is the same Crystal Ball that lied about being a computer, right?" General Hawk asked. "And you believed him _**why?"**_

"Uh…." Duke blinked.

Low Light came to his defense. "Because he showed us a lot of embarrassing pictures of Cobra. Including Cobra Commander getting attacked by seagulls on an island of garbage."

"Of course, he did that," General Hawk groaned. "Because that's what Cobra **does!** Cover their own hides and bad mouth Cobra Commander every chance they get! Have you people **not **been paying attention these past few decades?"

"Uh…" Duke winced.

"And now," General Hawk barked. "Not only is the French government angry about all the damage those weirdoes caused, the Pentagon is up in arms! They want an **investigation! **What the hell am I supposed to tell them? I sure as hell can't tell them the truth!"

Shipwreck winced. "Yeah I guess telling people our truck was hijacked by a ghost and a vampire turkey is a little farfetched…"

"YOU **THINK**?" General Hawk groaned. "GI Joe already has a reputation for being destructive lunatics! This will make it worse!"

"Okay in hindsight maybe we should have known better?" Lady Jaye admitted. "But come on General! A vampire turkey **and** a ghost in a crystal ball? That's whacked out even for Cobra!"

"Is it me or is Cobra getting crazier?" Shipwreck asked.

"It's not you," Beach Head sighed. "Oh, and they have a spaceship now! WHICH I TOLD YOU PEOPLE ABOUT!"

"We know Beach Head!" General Hawk groaned. "WE KNOW!"

Just then the monitor on the wall cracked to life. "And knowing is half the battle!" Short Fuse spoke cheerfully. He and Quick Kick were on the monitor.

"Speaking of _crazy,_" Duke groaned. "What are those idiots up to **now?"**

"What do you **think?**" Low Light snapped.

"I told those idiots if they even thought of making another show I'd send them to Greenland!" General Hawk shouted.

"Welcome to Know Your Joe!" Quick Kick said cheerfully. "Here we are live in sunny Greenland!"

"Oh right," General Hawk realized. "I **did** send them to Greenland."

"We were left behind as part of a residual force after investigating a destroyed Cobra base in Greenland," Short Fuse explained. "So, we thought we'd interview some of the guys also here with us!"

"With us today is our good friend and everyone's favorite undercover agent…" Quick Kick spoke up. "Chuckles!"

On screen was a tall muscular blond man with a big smile and a bigger, louder Hawaiian shirt. "Hello out there!" Chuckles spoke with a southern accent.

"He can talk!" Short Fuse quipped.

"Of course, I can," Chuckles said. "Although I did once make a bet with Ace to see which one of us could go the longest without talking. He owes me three hundred bucks by the way."

"I forgot we had that guy," Shipwreck admitted.

"How could you forget a guy who wears Hawaiian shirts that loud?" Flint asked.

"Do you have any idea how many guys I know that wear loud Hawaiian shirts?" Shipwreck asked. "When you're stationed at naval bases all over the world you see a lot of them. Ironically not that many in Hawaii."

"How long did you beat Ace by?" Quick Kick asked.

"Two and a half weeks," Chuckles said.

"That's impressive," Quick Kick said.

"Not really," Chuckles shook his head. "I won the bet within the first six minutes. I just kept going for the extra cash. And the personal challenge."

"Right," Short Fuse realized. "This is Ace we're talking about."

"We once duct taped his mouth shut and he still kept talking," Quick Kick nodded. "Did not know he was a good ventriloquist."

"We can't shut this off, can we?" General Hawk groaned.

"Afraid not," Mainframe sighed as he tried to do so.

"If only those two could annoy Cobra as much as they do the rest of us!" Duke groaned.

"Let's talk about you," Short Fuse said to Chuckles. "Tell us about yourself."

Chuckles nodded. "Well my real name is Special Agent Philip M Provost. I'm classified as a Sergeant but that's not my real designation. It's there to fool the enemy who hacks into the computers."

"Special Agent?" Short Fuse asked.

"So technically you're a civilian," Quick Kick realized. "Not a soldier."

"I'm an FBI agent," Chuckles explained. "Potato-po-tat-o. My specialty is undercover investigation with expertise in infiltration, profiling and intelligence."

"Undercover?" Quick Kick did a double take. "With your get up?"

"The guy with the bare chest and bare feet and looks like an extra from a Bruce Lee movie is questioning **my outfit** choices?" Chuckles remarked. "Have you **seen** how half the people in this unit are dressed?"

"Point taken," Quick Kick admitted.

"Seriously compared to half of the Joes," Chuckles remarked. "I'm kind of underdressed. Not as underdressed as Quick Kick or Gung Ho…"

"At least you wear a shirt," Short Fuse nodded. "We get it."

"I wear a shirt!" Quick Kick protested.

"Not as much as you should," Short Fuse remarked.

Chuckles went on. "To be fair though I've always had a love of Hawaiian shirts. My favorite TV show was Hawaii Five O and this just short of stuck. Plus, there were all those years I used to work at my family's hula lounge bar, the Lounge Wizard. Great times."

"The Lounge…Wizard?" Quick Kick asked.

"Let's just say my family was ahead of the curve in the fantasy themed restaurant entertainment market," Chuckles admitted. "To this day it is the only place is Arkansas where you can get a draft of beer from a dragon's mouth!"

"Really?" Short Fuse blinked. "Wait I'm still confused…"

"Think Tiki Bar in Middle Earth," Chuckles explained.

"Oh okay…" Short Fuse nodded. "So, you're from Arkansas?"

"Born in bred in Little Rock," Chuckles said. "Although I did spend a lot of summers visiting my relatives in Florida. I moved there after I graduated high school and went to work at an insurance agency to pay for my schooling. That's where I developed my love for undercover work and discovering intelligence."

"I don't follow you," Quick Kick was confused.

Chuckles explained. "Do you have any idea how much insurance fraud is perpetrated by people working or living in retirement communities? There's a lot of creative crooks in **that** area!"

"And I guess wearing a Hawaiian shirt would help you blend right in," Short Fuse realized.

"That's right," Chuckles grinned. "You are looking at the man who singlehandedly blew open the Whispering Willows Retirement Home scandal. The people who were running the home were collecting insurance and getting death benefits from people who didn't exist!"

"Wow!" Quick Kick gasped. "How did you do that?"

"Here's a tip," Chuckles said. "Don't leave the door to the office containing all the files unlocked during the office Christmas party."

"Ah," Short Fuse nodded.

"And if you do," Chuckles said. "Don't spike the eggnog. Some of those people were plastered until after New Year's!"

"How did you figure out the scam?" Short Fuse asked.

"My first clue was going over the names of the deceased," Chuckles said. "B. Baggins. Sam Wise. Gandalf Grey. Saul R. Mann. G. Gatsby. Mr. Flint Stone. It just went on and on."

"Kind of obvious huh?" Quick Kick remarked.

"My personal favorite was the one of Luke and Leia S. Walker," Chuckles said. "That one was wrong on so many levels."

"Yikes," Short Fuse winced.

"Anyway, my investigative skills got noticed," Chuckles said. "The next thing I knew I was recruited by the FBI. Passed my training with honors. For seven years I worked undercover on several cases successfully before being recruited and sent as a liaison to the US Army's Criminal Investigations Bureau."

"Kind of hard to picture you undercover," Short Fuse admitted.

"Sometimes the best way to go undercover is to stand out," Chuckles said. "If you're the life of the party, people think you're too busy to notice what they're doing. Let's just say I'm very good at multitasking."

"Really?" Short Fuse asked.

"I don't want to brag," Chuckles said. "But I once uncovered a major drug ring and helped stop an assassination of a local judge while hosting a limbo contest at a mob wedding."

Quick Kick blinked. "That **is** impressive."

Chuckles shrugged. "I guess it would have been more impressive if I hadn't blown up the wedding reception and eaten half the cake."

Short Fuse thought. "No, still pretty impressive."

"I was known as the life of the party at the agency," Chuckles admitted. "They called me Mr. Ha Ha."

"Because you were funny and wore loud Hawaiian shirts," Short Fuse nodded.

"Well that," Chuckles admitted. "And I used to kind of have this bad habit of laughing like Nelson Muntz every time I broke a guy's kneecap."

"He still does that!" Shipwreck realized. "I heard him do that one time in a fight with some Cobras!"

Chuckles went on. "Of course, it wasn't as bad a nickname as some of my colleges. Like Barry The Biter. Assassin Andy. Pukey-Man. Gilly The Groin Kicker. Marian the Barbarian. Stabby McGee. Gouger. He was a lot of laughs."

"So, you've had a lot of practice being around crazy people before **coming** to the Joes?" Short Fuse realized.

"Pretty much yeah," Chuckles nodded.

"That explains a lot," Duke groaned.

"You came to the Joes recruited by General Hawk, right?" Quick Kick asked.

"No, he didn't," General Hawk corrected. "Not that they can hear me."

"No, I was assigned to this unit by my superiors when Hawk requested some more Joes," Chuckles said. "Funny story. My superiors wanted me to investigate you guys!"

_"What?"_ Quick Kick and Short Fuse did a double take.

**"WHAT?"** General Hawk and the other Joes shouted.

"Yeah I was assigned by the head of the FBI and some of the Pentagon to investigate the Joes to see if you were all on the up and up," Chuckles said. "Of course, shortly after I arrived there was that whole Cobra La mess. I secretly brought back some Cobra La technology and had several warrior's bodies shipped to a secret government research lab. It was pretty hard to dispute that you guys were on the up and up after that."

"How the hell did he do that?" General Hawk shouted. "I didn't see him carry anything! Let alone take some bodies!"

"How did you do that?" Quick Kick asked. "We didn't see you carry anybody!"

"Oh, I left a tracer at Cobra La with the coordinates to my superiors," Chuckles said. "They got there about a day after you left. I got a promotion because of that! Of course, I couldn't tell you guys because you know? Undercover!"

"And that convinced your superiors that we were on the level?" Quick Kick was stunned.

"That and several documents I managed to send," Chuckles said. "By the way General Hawk's password should really **not** be guest."

"WHAT?" General Hawk barked.

"Damn he's good," Shipwreck whistled.

"Let me get this straight," Short Fuse snapped. "You've been spying on GI Joe this whole time?"

"Not just **you!**" Chuckles waved. "Sometimes I used your equipment to spy on some other guys."

"What other guys?" Quick Kick asked.

"Oh, you know," Chuckles shrugged. "A few mob bosses. A drug dealer or two. A few terrorists and white supremacists."

"How did you do **that?**" Short Fuse snapped.

Chuckles looked at them. "You guys never thought it was weird that I had monitoring duty more than **anyone else** around here? Even more than Mainframe? All I had to do was hack into Beach Head's schedule and put my name in."

**"WHAT?"** Beach Head shouted.

"Beach Head's password is Sergeant S by the way," Chuckles said. "As in Sergeant Snuffles his teddy bear."

"HE'S A STRESS RELIEVER!" Beach Head shouted.

_"Seriously?"_ Duke looked at Beach Head.

"I also made sure I was alone at the time," Chuckles said. "I usually removed Shipwreck's name from the schedule."

"I guess he's not all bad," Shipwreck shrugged.

"Then I would just tune in the satellites or whatever I needed to the coordinates I was assigned to monitor," Chuckles said. "I helped prevent a mass bombing in Austin which led me to **another** promotion. Again, couldn't tell you guys. Undercover and all."

"I don't freaking believe this," Duke was stunned.

"I also convinced the Pentagon that it was probably best for everyone that this unit stay together and it's members not be transferred anywhere else," Chuckles said. "Which was easy. All I had to do was to show some of Psyche Out's evaluations and excerpts from the diaries of both Beach Head and Duke and bam! They were convinced."

"WHAT?" Duke and Beach Head shouted.

"What's Duke's password to his diary?" Short Fuse asked.

"IT'S A JOURNAL!" Duke shouted.

_"Seriously?"_ Beach Head looked at him.

"Oh, he has a written diary," Chuckles explained. "Hidden in a secret compartment in the top drawer of his desk along with a bottle of rare scotch."

"Scotch?" Shipwreck looked at Duke. "Interesting…"

_"Seriously?"_ Duke and Beach Head snapped at Shipwreck.

"That and I also sent them several documents I uncovered proving Cobra's connection with Mongoose Incorporated," Chuckles grinned. "And uncovering some of their insurance scams. As we speak the government lawyers are preparing a very strong case!"

"WHEN DID HE DO **THAT?"** General Hawk shouted.

"When was **this?**" Quick Kick asked.

Chuckles sighed. "You guys didn't even notice I was off base for over four months, didn't you?"

"**That's **why I forgot about him!" Shipwreck snapped his fingers.

"If only we could forget about **you,**" Lady Jaye looked at him.

"To be fair your show was a great cover," Chuckles said. "Everybody was so distracted by the mayhem you caused with your show they forgot all about **me!**"

Low Light was stunned. "It worked!"

"Those two are so going to get it…" Beach Head growled.

"Well this is a shock!" Short Fuse was stunned. "What else haven't you told us? That you have multiple personalities? That your face isn't really your face but some kind of Face Off-John Travolta rip off? WHAT?"

"I guess now's a bad time to tell you that I've been reassigned huh?" Chuckles asked.

"WHAT?" Everyone shouted.

"Why?" Quick Kick gasped.

"I've just signed a three-picture movie deal at Paramount!" Chuckles grinned. "As a producer for some new action films!"

"What does **that** have to do with your reassignment?" Short Fuse snapped.

"Oh sorry, I buried the lead," Chuckles realized. "You are now looking at the new Director of Film Advisory at the FBI!"

"What exactly does **that** do?" Short Fuse asked.

"People want to make movies about the FBI or FBI like agencies," Chuckles shrugged. "I advise them. Get them in contact with agents or experts about a particular topic or case…All that stuff!"

"So basically, you're going to just help a bunch of Hollywood directors make movies?" Quick Kick asked.

"Not just movies," Chuckles counted on his fingers. "We're talking History Channel programs, National Geographic specials, Discovery Channel specials, and at least three Lifetime movies next year! And some new TV shows about FBI agents. The possibilities are endless!"

"And the FBI has a department for **that?**" Short Fuse was stunned.

"Dude the FBI has been interested in promoting itself in films since Hoover's time," Chuckles told them. "Apparently he always wanted to direct. He secretly had an acting bug."

"To be fair," Shipwreck quipped. "Hoover had a lot of bugs."

"I'm also in talks to make several movies based on my life and experiences," Chuckles said. "And some new GI Joe movies. Good ones for a change. Hopefully…I had nothing to do with those disasters that came before. That was the guy who's job I'm taking over."

"And the FBI is just going to let you make movies?" Quick Kick asked.

"Why wouldn't they?" Chuckles asked. "They get twenty percent of gross profit position."

"Can I have a part in your movie?" Quick Kick asked.

"Me too!" Short Fuse asked.

"I'll get my agent in touch with your agent," Chuckles said. "In fact as soon as this interview is over I'll call him."

"That's all the time we have for Know Your Joe!" Quick Kick said quickly. "We're out!"

"Hollywood here we come!" Short Fuse whooped. Then the screen went dark.

"This is the stupidest day…" Beach Head groaned.

"In every sort of way," Roadblock agreed.

"Good news General," Shipwreck remarked. "When it comes to crazy, I think we can keep up with Cobra in that department."

"Where do these people come from?" General Hawk groaned. "And why do they always come to **my unit?"**


End file.
